everyone has a fear of falling
from buildings
planes
and your lips
when they call me;
but we should be more like the winter snow
falling with the sole purpose
to create beauty
and to know
that my fear will keep you warm
in the coldest
darkest
times

If I were to grow bold
And break free from my cage
Would stories be told?
Of the heroic passion of my rage

Would the darkness in my periphery
Suddenly be a little brighter
Or would they catch a whiff of me
And put me to the lighter

Would they catch the scent of misery?
See its grip upon my heart
Would their empty stares deliver me
To the darkness for which I'm marked

sunspot
sunrise
sunshine
moonshine
i lick you off my lips like strawberry
                                             pineapple
                                             grape              ­    juice
                                             a fine wine that i’ve never drunk.

asteroid belt
orion’s belt
daddy’s belt
i am opening the door a crack for you only to slam it in your face—i am
waiting for you to knock
             to pound your fist against the gate
             to break your hand on the wood
                                 i am waiting for you to say that you love me
                                 and i am waiting for myself to believe it completely
                                 (i think you do but i am still afraid you might leave me)

((jupiter has 67 moons and i think that i might be
                        each and every single one of them)).

oort cloud
smoke cloud
the burning ash of my father’s lit cigar flicking onto my hands
i am awake at night and thinking about how you no longer taste like lung
                                                                ­                                       mouth
                                                                ­                            kidney        cancer.
my grandfather almost died of prostate cancer
my friend is dying of brain cancer
my father will probably die of liver cancer
                                                          ­ there is not enough space in the cosmos
                                                          ­ for all of us, is there?                   … God?

meteorite
meteoright
i am trying to sleep without your face in the back of my neck
                                                      hand on the back of my hand
                                                      leg tangled around the back of mine
i am trying to telepathically whisper my secrets into your ears
                                                       but the only problem is that i have not yet
                                                             ­  mastered  this  form  of  communication—
          i think that everything would be so much easier if i just didn’t feel.